You're Not Alone
by 101Obsessions
Summary: "I-I didn't realise how e-empty it would feel! I never wanted to hear the god's voice, but it-" "It's so empty, isn't it? So alone." Seth is suffering since losing the God's voice in his head - and Mirany is the only one who could understand. Sethany.


**_Yay, I've gotten back into this series ^^_**

**_Really love Sethany, so here is a angst/hurt/comfort/fluff fic. Why is there not a fluff category? There needs to be a fluff category._**

**_Set about a year after the end of the trilogy, so big spoilers! Don't say I didn't warn ya._**

**_Disclaimer: Don't own this series, or the characters. Catherine Fisher has that pleasure._**

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><p>Mirany poked her head cautiously through the doorway, looking around the room beyond carefully. Her caution, she knew, was unnecessary. Now she was Speaker, now Argelin was dead and Alexos was truly the Archon and everyone was safe she had no danger to fear. Or at least, no more than the average priestess. Nor did she need to feel nervous, or small – she was no longer little Mirany from Mylos, the scared mouse. She had heard the god, had put the true Archon on his throne, had created rain and walked through the Gates of Death to the Garden of the Rain Queen and back again.<p>

Her caution was not for herself, however. As her eyes fell on him, she smiled and sidled into the room, glad she had thought to be quiet. Seth was asleep at his desk, head resting on one arm, his breathing ruffling some of the papyrus sheets that were scattered there. She tiptoed over behind him, looking over his shoulder.

She recognised some of the hieroglyphs – her name. A small, smug smile appeared on her face. Seth had told her he was starting to record all that had happened these last few years, all of their adventures and dangers and troubles, so that he could look back and be thankful he was still alive. Mirany wondered if, in a hundred years, some other young scribe might find them, somewhere in the archives of the necropolis. Maybe he'd think it all some fanciful story.

Nevertheless, the knowledge that he wrote about her in his work filled Mirany with some kind of selfish joy, a fierce fire in her stomach that he was recording her deeds and life – that, on the papyrus, he was focusing on her and her alone. The thought brought a blush to her face.

Hearing the man sigh slightly, she looked down at Seth, noticing his sun-tanned skin glowing a faint gold in the evening light. It was only early evening, but if she knew Seth she also knew that he would have been up for hours, since before Dawn; bossing his dozens of subordinates around; haggling fiercely at the morning market despite having the coin to buy it all, if he wanted, now; meeting nobles and aristocrats who were desperate to win his favour, he ruthlessly manipulating them until he got the best profit out of it all; organising all the finances of Nine; and now, finally, writing out his memoirs. She chuckled very softly underneath her breath. The young man might now be different from the arrogant scribe of yesteryear, but some things never changed.

She admired his face from this new angle. She'd never before gotten the chance to just look at Seth – he was always wearing that smug, arrogant grin that made her face flush when he looked right at her, or they were always in company that demanded her attention so she couldn't admire the handsome man in peace. She'd never seen him look so unguarded, but peaceful at the same time. He was smiling slightly – not his cocky grin, but a contented look.

Mirany brushed some of the charcoal-coloured curls out of the man's face, letting her eyes take their time in looking at him. She'd noticed he was handsome – several times in these past few months – but looking at him up close took her breath away. A faint shadow of stubble danced across his chin – Mirany's eyes followed it, her smile widening. A pen-pusher he might be, but the roughness of his unshaven face reminded her he was also a tomb robber and an infiltrator, with a silver tongue of razor sharpness.

She straightened up, crossing the room in quick steps to sit in a comfortable chair across by the window. She could wait until he woke up to speak to him. He needed the rest, she knew that, and it was only a trivial matter she wanted to discuss anyway.

She was glad, a moment, that the god's voice didn't make a sly remark right then. She knew he would have commented on her sudden desire to see Seth, and she knew it would have made her flush and flee the room, too embarrassed to remain there any longer. She snorted to herself. No, some things never changed.

Her gaze wondered to outside the window, where the low sun sent orange rays across the land. This particular window overlooked the Bridge, as Seth had ordered that the newly-created post of High Quaestor for the Nine had to have an equally audacious setting in which to work. Mirany's smile widened.

It was rather pleasant, a cool breeze moving in through the blinds and lifting her hair, carrying a scent of rosemary to her. A bird sang somewhere, a sleepy trill to welcome the night. It was peaceful.

Until Seth screamed.

Mirany was on her feet – her heart in her throat, stomach suddenly a painful ball in her abdomen, all of a sudden Mousy Mirany again – and ran over to his side. The scribe was shivering, his smile gone to be replaced with pain and fear. Papyri were knocked to the floor as he thrashed suddenly, as though trying to fight some unseen force off.

His eyes were shut tight.

Mirany grabbed his shoulders.

"Seth! Seth, wake up!"

He didn't seem to hear her – he bucked again, gasping with fear, a sudden whimper that made her stomach contract even further. She shook him, gently at first but then more fiercely as he still didn't wake.

"Seth! Seth, please, wake up, _please, _snap out of it!"

A sudden gasp, and then Seth's eyes were open and he threw her off, one powerful, furious movement that made her stagger backwards. Seth was on his feet, facing her, arms raised to fight – but then just as suddenly, he seemed to relax. He slumped, sucking in great breaths of air. His voice shook, eyes terrified.

"M-mirany?"

She, too sagged, in this instance with relief.

"Yes, Seth, it's me. You were having a nightmare."

Seth stepped back, grabbing the desk and leaning against it for support. He let out his breath.

"Thank God, thank God, just a nightmare…"

He shivered, eyes dropping to the floor. Mirany bit her lip, feeling just like the scared little girl who had stepped off of a ship from Mylos aged just fourteen. She took a tentative step forward.

"Uh, Seth?"

He didn't answer her. He was too focused on the stone floor. His lips were moving, too quickly for her to lip-read his silent words. She had never seen him look so afraid – no, she had, once, when she had crossed into the Underworld without him, and he had yelled for her to wait.

Sudden confidence came from nowhere. She stepped over to him, a hand finding his shoulder.

"Did you dream of the god? The god's voice leaving you?"

Seth lifted his head, something in his eyes confirming it. He shivered.

"I-I didn't realise how e-empty it would feel! I never wanted to hear the god's voice, but it-"

Her fingers tightened on his shoulder – the expensive linen under them creased. Her voice was quiet.

"It's so empty, isn't it? So alone." Her words couldn't accurately describe the desolation that the loss of his voice left. As though he had torn a slash across her mind to fill with his presence – when he didn't speak for days or weeks or months on end, it was a gulf, something she could never fill. She couldn't imagine what it must be like for Seth, who had heard the voice for a week, long enough for his presence to no doubt fill his mind, but never since.

The scribe was refusing to answer again. He gritted his teeth, staring determinedly at the floor as he tried to control his breathing. Mirany noticed with shock that his cheeks were wet – tiny black marks from the inked papyrus clung to his skin.

"Seth…"

He was ignoring her, now, she was sure of it. He was avoiding her gaze, avoiding her question, his shoulder shaking as though he wanted to tear it out of her grip. Inexplicably, that thought made her angry. Her fingers whipped around to catch his chin; she yanked his face up to look at her.

"Swallow your goddamned pride, Seth. Look at me."

He did then; she saw his eyes were a little afraid, not of the dream but of her. She sighed, loosening her grip.

"Tell me, Seth. You know you can trust me – and you know the God left me, too, for a while."

His eyes flickered, glancing away nervously, before looking back at her.

"I-...You can hear him, now, though. It's been a _year _since his voice left and I still get- I still-"

He shook again – she steadied him, gripping his arms.

"Tell me."

Those words were calm, clear and full of authority. But for a second, she thought he wouldn't speak, even then. Instead, he crumpled like a doll, fresh tears welling up.

"I dreamed he was speaking to me again. Argelin was there, and he was plotting to kill you, to kill Alexos, to kill everyone he thought a threat. The god was saying in my ear that I had to stop him, but I didn't know how and then Argelin- Argelin _did _something, something magical and evil and terrible and there was a scream in my head and I curled up and couldn't breathe, and all I wanted was for it to stop. Then it did, and there was just silence. The Port was empty, but the Island was covered in bodies and blood and you were there, you were d-dead and all I could hear was silence. Like the god was…gone."

He was shaking again, terribly, and Mirany shivered too. The Bright Lord just…gone? It didn't bear thinking about, but she had had nightmares like that whilst she had been on the run – when the voice hadn't spoken in her ear for months. Her hands ran up his arms to his shoulders.

"I know. It's terrifying. You feel like, like you're never going to be happy again because you know he's gone forever."

Her face steeled, voice hardening.

"But he isn't gone, Seth. I know it hurts that you can't hear him anymore, but he's here, he's still here, you can see it in Alexos, in the rain, in all the bright things. He is still here, and he will never leave. The nightmares are just nightmares."

Seth opened his mouth to argue, but Mirany just smiled grimly.

"They get better, I promise you that. But Seth, please, don't bottle it away with pride. The dreams are horrifying – I know, believe me, I know that."

He shook his head, a grim smile playing on his own lips. But she recognised in his eyes a faint sort of guilt, and knew she had gotten through to him. She smiled, and it was more real, more genuine this time. Without thinking about it – she never could have done it had she stopped to think about it – she pulled him close.

"Talk to me, Seth, when it happens. It's scary, it hurts, you want it to stop. I know. You can talk to me about it – because I still get scared too, sometimes. I still worry if the voice will just stop one day."

Seth looked at her, bemused.

"But you're the Speaker. The God speaks to you – that's how it's going to always be."

She laughed, dry.

"We don't know that. But for now, let's hope it will. And you can always come see me, if you have another nightmare. You're not alone, Seth. We can drive it away, together."

She felt him tremble, but it was a different sort of shiver to his frightened tremors of before. He lowered his head onto her shoulder, warm arms suddenly going tight around her waist. As she lifted a hand to place on the warm skin and hair of the back of his neck, she heard him mumble into her shoulder.

"Th-thank you. Thank you, Mirany."

She smiled, pulling him closer.

The light slowly faded, leaving the room in a tender, soft twilight. Mirany smiled, content. She would never had dreamed that she would be doing this, holding Seth like this, but it was real and he was alive and warm and in her arms, and she knew that now, finally, he would be able to open up to her.

She had never felt more content.

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><p><strong><em>Bawwwww I love this couple so much! Definately my hetOTP of all time.<em>**

**_Hehe, made up Seth's new job. Although, I would have thought he'd be Aedile by now (the step-up from a quaestorship in Roman magistrates, and presumably the same in the Two Lands) but I can't see him doing anything but Treasury things, and the Aedile are more in charge of religion. Sorta like the Nine, I guess... (Don't quote me on this. Archaeology student just touching on Roman politics right now)_**

**_Anyway, he's on the Island, just as he's always wanted. But I betcha he either gets greedy and ends up being Chief Censor of All the Two Lands or gets bored and becomes a treasure hunter/explorer for the God. _**


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